


futakuchi kenji's book of friends

by commovente



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Animals, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 14:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7176440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commovente/pseuds/commovente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p> “Let it be known,” Onagawa will say, when inevitably Futakuchi questions how it all spiralled so outrageously beyond control, “that this wasn’t my fault.”</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	futakuchi kenji's book of friends

**Author's Note:**

> hello! so, here's my fic for the aus hq fanbook ["our summer"](https://twitter.com/oz_hqfanbook/status/741921163249487873). it's been real fun writing for this, and i recommend y'all check out the rest of the fanbook too, there's a lot of super stuff in there! thanks a lot to the fanbook team for organising, and the betas for... pulling me from the depths of my constant lapslock into Proper Punctuation, lmao :D :D

_(Eastern outskirts of Miyagi's Tanabata Festival, present time:)_

 

“Let it be known,” Onagawa will say, when inevitably Futakuchi questions how it all spiralled so outrageously beyond control, “that this wasn’t my fault.” 

His conscience snorts. _Liar!_ it accuses, sounding—an awful lot like Futakuchi, actually. Onagawa stops, considering this.

“Well, anyway,” he continues. “If you want someone to blame, go ahead and blame that damn cat—”

“— _Like hell I will_.” 

Ah. So it was Futakuchi, after all. 

Onagawa swallows audibly, raising both hands up in surrender as he slowly spins to face Futakuchi.

“Futakuchi, you see, if you’d just let me _explain_ …”

Except Futakuchi doesn’t, and Onagawa doesn’t actually try to explain: Onagawa Tarou turns about faces and _runs_ , chased by one angry Futakuchi, their terrified and enraged screams both echoing out into the sky, lost amidst the night’s festivities.

 

.

.

.

 

_(Onagawa's front porch, approximately two hours prior:)_

 

Onagawa inspects the kitten in his arms doubtfully, trailing an experimental few fingers along its coat. The kitten purrs, curling up against Onagawa even more, the very embodiment of fuzzy orange satisfaction as it nuzzles into Onagawa’s hand, tail softly tapping his arm, _thump-thump-thump_.

“Onagawa. I can’t just leave Mikan alone… she’ll get lonely.” Aone’s expression literally hasn’t budged an inch, but it’s still the most persuasive thing Onagawa’s experienced since the senpais convinced him and Aone and Futakuchi it was a good idea to ask Kamasaki-san for tips on building cardio training menus.

Well and truly won over, Onagawa caves in. 

“Alright,” he allows, “but only for a few hours.”

And because Onagawa is really a good friend and upstanding teammate, he doesn’t question why Aone can’t look after his kitten himself, nor what he’s doing with a kitten in the first place. Scratching under Mikan’s chin, Onagawa wrinkles his nose. It’s a little itchy, but Onagawa’s not about to scratch it with an armful of soft, happy kitten in his arms—what if it’s a zit? What if Onagawa pops said hypothetical zit? No sir, Onagawa’s fine and dandy just as he is, cuddling Aone’s kitten until she’s purring up an adorably rumbly storm. 

“I'll pick her up at tonight’s festival, then,” Aone says. Then, bobbing his head in a quick, jerky bow, he turns and heads back the way he came.

Onagawa waves him off, humming.

And then he realises.

“Wait,” he says, to nobody in particular. “Wait, _wait_. Tonight's festival, as in— _Tanabata?_ ”

Unsurprisingly, Aone doesn’t respond, already gone wherever it is he has to go. Mikan meows, nudging at him, and Onagawa sighs.

“I mean. That’s still okay, I guess.” Onagawa starts petting Mikan again. He shrugs. “Well, probably.”

 

.

.

.

(It actually isn't, but regretfully, Onagawa has no way of knowing this at the time.)

 

.

.

.

 

_(Elsewhere in Miyagi, still two hours prior:)_

 

Futakuchi exits the library, grinning. In his hands he not only holds a supplementary summer assignment, completed to passing perfection, but a slip of paper containing the contact details of Ennoshita from Karasuno, Futakuchi’s spur-of-the-moment tutor and all around saviour extraordinaire. 

To make things even better, Futakuchi’s schedule is all clear for the team's Tanabata outing tonight. 

Reaching into his pockets, Futakuchi stops. He digs his hand in as deep as it’ll go, but no dice: Futakuchi’s keys are nowhere to be found, probably still somewhere in his house, thus dead to Futakuchi and the world for all he cares. Pursing his lips, he rethinks his plans a little, grin sliding back into place as he does. He can just head straight to Tanabata early then, maybe even help with set-up, no big deal.

And with that decided, Futakuchi starts walking again.

Yep, life’s still good.

 

_._

_._

_._

 

_(En route to Tanabata, an hour prior:)_

 

“Mikan…”

Onagawa’s about to fall to his knees, but the street’s kinda dusty so he settles for dropping into a squat of utter misery instead. Hugging his knees, Onagawa moans:

_“Mikan, where the hell did you go?”_

 

_._

_._

_._

 

_(Tanabata, the scene of the crime, five minutes prior:)_

 

“Thanks very much,” Futakuchi says, putting down assignment and paper to fish out some money and collect his yakisoba. It smells half a breath short of heavenly, and Futakuchi wants nothing more than to stuff his face into it. He’s all set to do just that, too, but when he turns back around to grab his stuff and scout out a spot to eat and wait for everyone else, something inexplicable quite literally stands in his way.

Except instead of _something_ Futakuchi actually means _tiny orange cat_ , and rather than _stand_ he really _means cutely curled upon his things._

“What.”

Futakuchi curls a palm protectively over the yakisoba, jerking his head at the cat rather violently. However, someone—he thinks it might’ve been Moniwa-san—once told him that animals can smell fear, so Futakuchi coos at the cat instead of screeching like he’s still tempted to:

“Shoo, scram, out of my stuff.”

The cat licks its paw, not paying Futakuchi a scrap of attention which, excuse you, is absolutely _unacceptable_ —

“Mikan!”

—as Futakuchi finds himself barrelled in the side and to the floor, yakisoba arcing up, out of his reach to splatter yakisoba-first onto the shoes of—

_“Pantalons.”_

Onagawa’s about to grab the cat when looks down at Futakuchi instead, jolting, like he hadn’t even realised Futakuchi was there.

“Oh, hey Futakuchi, what’re you doing there,” he says, _drawling_ , like he wasn’t entirely the cause for Futakuchi’s sudden distress. Futakuchi is going to kill him.

Futakuchi huffs and, without the slightest trace of regret, yanks Onagawa down to join him. Onagawa winces, wriggling around a bit before he says, “Hey, man, what gives? And why’s it so _mushy_ down here…”

“That,” Futakuchi snaps, “would be the yakisoba.”

“The what?” Onagawa blinks, but Futakuchi is not to be swayed.

_Yakisoba!_ Futakuchi roars, or is about to, because it’s at this moment Aone decides to make an appearance, plucking the cat off Futakuchi’s things where it snuggles into Aone’s arms.

“Aone, good timing,” Futakuchi begins, standing up at last. “You would not _believe_ what just happened to me.”

But Aone just nods soothingly at Futakuchi before he turns to Onagawa and says, “Thank you for looking after her.”

Futakuchi swears he can feel a vein pop.

“Glad to be of service,” Onagawa laughs, somewhat breathlessly, pulling himself back onto his feet. dusting himself off, he cringes, hands flying away from his pants. Looking from his hands to Futakuchi and back, he says: “Ah. The yakisoba.”

“Yakisoba?” pipes another voice. 

Everyone turns to see Karasuno’s #10 materialise from behind Aone, followed by a little girl that may as well be his clone, just two heads shorter.

“Hinata,” says Aone.

_Huh, so that's his name. well, that makes sense_ , Futakuchi thinks, before he stops, remembering the situation at hand.

“Aone,” he says, drawing the name out without whining, because Futakuchi Kenji doesn’t whine.

“Hm?” Aone hums at the same time Hinata says, “Is this the kitten you said we could adopt?”

Hinata the second cheers. “She’s so cute!”

Futakuchi supposes that’s true, but more importantly—

“Aone,” he tries again.

“Futakuchi,” Aone finally responds. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I wrecked his yakisoba,” Onagawa butts in, because he would. Hinata's clone—his sister?—gasps at this, running over to tug on Futakuchi. 

“That’s no good, onii-san!"

Futakuchi decides he likes Hinata’s sister.

“Isn’t it,” he agrees.

Natsu nods solemnly, and Hinata ducks forward to tug her hands from the hem of Futakuchi’s shirt. 

“Natsu, don’t cling,” he says. Then, to Futakuchi, he says: “She’s right though, Tanabata’s supposed to be fun! Here,” and he yanks the slip of paper from Futakuchi’s assignment. “Why don’t you go hang up your wish…” 

Hinata stops, mouth still hanging open, and Futakuchi yanks the slip away but it's way, way too late:

“Um, Futakuchi-san?” Hinata laughs nervously. It sounds forced. “Why do you have Ennoshita-san’s mail address as a wish?”

Futakuchi closes his eyes. Onagawa whistles.

Aone’s quiet, but the kitten in his arms mewls.

When Futakuchi opens his eyes again, he turns to face Onagawa, but Onagawa is no longer there.

“Don't you even _dare_ ,” Futakuchi hisses, bolting after the Onagawa shaped silhouette trying to slip through the crowds.

 

.

.

.

 

“A game?” Natsu asks, and Hinata shrugs, turning to Aone. 

“… Yes,” Aone says, and nods at them to follow him as he chases after Futakuchi.

 

.

.

.

 

(Meanwhile, Onagawa and Futakuchi are—well. You know.)

 

.

.

.

 

_(Western outskirts of Miyagi's Tanabata festival, present time, plus fifteen minutes:)_

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake—Pantalons,” Futakuchi wheezes. They’re both sprawled on the side of the road. Somewhere Onagawa distantly thinks is off the right, he can hear Aone and the Hinata siblings—well, mostly the Hinata siblings—calling after them, having lost sight of Onagawa and Futakuchi at the last goldfish scoop stand Onagawa had bolted past.

“ —why didn’t you just tell me it was Aone in the first place?” Futakuchi finishes. He reeks of exhaustion and an unpleasant whiff of patronisation. Onagawa would take offence, but he honestly feels pretty much the same. Still, there are certain things that just cannot go unaddressed:

“Futakuchi,” Onagawa says, horrified. “What has Aone ever done to _you?_ ”

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks very much for reading!
> 
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/kvramiyu), [tumblr](http://www.kvramiyus.tumblr.com)


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